


A Monster's Family

by tigresslilly



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Drama, Resurrection
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2010-01-12
Updated: 2010-01-24
Packaged: 2017-10-06 05:41:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 10,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/50267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tigresslilly/pseuds/tigresslilly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Buffy's jumped off the tower and now the Scoobies have to move on and deal.  Some things are easier than others.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Facing The End of the World (Again)

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own Buffy.

And there he was running towards her. One minute he was rushing a bunch of bringers and next Red and Glinda had made a path to the tower, to his Niblet. Buffy might have been the love of his unlife, but the Bit was family, and family looked after their own. He had been this to his mother and sisters and he had managed later for the Poof, the Whore, and his Dark Princess. Spike could certainly do it for a moony eyed teen that worshiped him the way his first family had.

Vampire speed must have meant something because he was in front of her sooner than he expected and she was so relieved. His little Bit still whole and healthy. She hadn't been bled into some key puddle she "was" according to those poncy monks. Bit smiled so big and pretty for him. It didn't even bother him right now that he looked forward to that smile more than he'd once looked forward to her blood. He stepped toward her ecstatic it was over. Glory was defeated, the Bringers were far below, and Bit was safe on the tower. It was almost peaceful this far away from the battle really, Spike could almost pretend it wasn't happening.

And then Dawn's smile crumpled and she started screaming and twisting against her ropes. Spike darted towards her worried that there was a spell or a trap, he never saw Doc come from behind and stab him in the back. The force of it knocked his useless breathe out and he lost his balance. The Bit screamed and screamed as he plummeted to the cement below. Before anger and hurt could steal his heart, fear flooded in. Spike twisted mid air to look back up at his Niblit but Doc was in the way with a bloodly dagger raised.

Spike couldn't get the air to shout. He felt like someone knocked everything out of him. Now it was really over. It might have been in his grasp but he'd been careless with his family. Too cocky and impatient again. Spike hoped the fall would kill him.


	2. To the Bitter End

Giles was taught to expect the impossible during watcher training. He had the lesson beaten into him by a willful Slayer who insisted doing things her way or not at all. It seems that some people never pick up the lesson though because here Giles was staring at what he thought was impossible completely flabbergasted.

He lowered his spectacles from his face. He pulled out the tail of his shirt and cleaned them. After completing the ritual the glasses went back onto his face. He hoped to see something new, but no. The same petite blond Slayer with sun kissed skin still lay crumpled in a heap at the bottom of the tower. Her hair glowed gold in the pre-dawn light. Her body was all at off angles and Giles knew she was dead. Probably dead the moment she'd hit the portal.

Figured just when he began expecting her to go on living forever she'd die for real and here he was at a complete loss. Of course Giles had old plans ready. They went back to the days when he'd expected her to run off into her death. He'd thought of it sort of as a lucky charm, because each apocalypse he made plans for her funeral and each one she lived. Just goes to show superstition doesn't help anyone. Though, even in those days, Giles never pictured her death quiet like this.

Broken body possibly, but he'd never thought that she would choose to give her life for that of another. It seemed such a waste. Surely Buffy's life was worth ten times that of any one person she saved let alone an imaginary—what was Giles even thinking?

It was Buf- the Slayer's- job to protect the defenseless. Sacrificing one's self for the greater good was her calling. A calling that she'd finally accepted, bloody good it did him now.

Right then, time to survey the rest of his group.

Willow and Tara were just beyond the Slay—Buffy. The two of them were holding each other and Tara had her face buried in Willow's chest. Silent tears tracked Willow's face as she rubbed Tara's back. Her eyes wandered from Buffy's body up to Giles. For a minute he met her gaze directly and he had all he could do not to flinch away. She showed only mutual sorrow. There was no accusation, anger, or disgust. Giles would have preferred any of those sparks at the moment over the acceptance.

Giles hated that he had a plan. He knew who to call, who would be discreet. He knew how they would pretend Buffy was still alive to keep the Hell Mouth secure. He knew all the right lines to get her friends to keep up the cause and to keep The Council from ever suspecting anything. He even had plans to help Buffy's brat of a sister stay here in Sunnydale as if nothing had happened. At the moment, Giles hated everything about himself and he couldn't take Willow's pitying understanding gaze that was so open and willing to allow him a chance to share in mutual grief.

He turned quickly to his left to see Xander half dragging half carrying Anya towards Buffy's corpse. Anya wasn't completely lucid. Her head lolled from side to side and she wasn't firing off a million inappropriate things at once.

Giles wasn't sure whether to be relieved or worried. The damage to Anya wasn't in the plan. It required a hospital trip and an explanation of some sort. The Hell Mouth caused a lot of injures and allowed for vague explanations, but an explanation is still needed.

Xander didn't look too much better than Anya at the moment. He wasn't injured but he was sheet white and his eyes were huge in panic or sorrow or denial. Giles wasn't sure which and he wasn't sure he wanted to know.

"Buf, hold on, I'm coming," Xander called a bit louder than really needed, especially considering Buffy was dead.

"Xan," Willow said. Her voice was quiet and flat with sorrow.

"Not now Wil, we've got to get to Buffy. She needs us. I know with Slayer strength and..."

Giles couldn't take it. Willow was moving to intercede and Xander was babbling while still trying to get to Buffy. The boy was half way into hysterics and Giles just knew if he watched this he would lose it too. Whatever part of him that could stand here and look at Buffy's dead body while calling up How to Deal with the Remains Quietly Plan 4B would shatter if he listed to Xander blubbering and Willow comforting.

He turned around and faced the ladder to the top of the tower. About ten feet away from the ladder was a mangled and bloody Spike dragging himself to the bottom. Giles had forgotten about the vampire and his several story tumble that took place only minutes before Buffy. Jack and Jill floated into Giles head only while Jack may have broken his crown he would recover while poor Jill was dead and broken. It was almost too good or bad or something for words.

Giles set his jaw line and headed over to the vampire. Whatever his feelings to the vampire were, Buffy wouldn't have wanted him to be abandoned


	3. Dawn Rising

Nothing was important to Spike anymore except getting back to his Niblit. He knew his lower spine had broken after the fall. Useless legs at funny angles along with a sharp snap were a good indication of that, though the mind searing pain helped drive that point home. Some stupid still human urge to brace the fall had made him reach back to catch himself. He'd earned a broken left arm for his troubles. He was cut from Doc's along scores of other abrasions that the kind arms of rough concrete could provide.

None of it mattered.

Buffy was dead. He'd known it the moment he started falling. Bit was going to be hurt maybe killed, but Buffy was dead the minute he'd failed her. He wasn't sure when he'd know Buffy would die for Dawn. Maybe it was when she tried to tell him goodbye, or when he'd explained the importance of blood, or maybe it was all the way back when he was helping a panicking Buffy find a runaway sister before a scary Hell God got her first. Didn't matter much now.

All that mattered was getting to Dawn. The Whelp and the Witches might have forgotten her, but he hadn't. She was up there alone and scared. He couldn't leave her there hurting to bleed to death. She was family and Spike always took care of his family.

One arm slowly dragged him towards the ladder. He'd pull himself all the way up if he had to. How with one arm and an approaching dawn didn't matter. He'd dust before he left the girl alone. His Bit just his now that Buffy was gone. She'd need him even if she couldn't forgive him for failing, she would need him.

"And what do you think you're doing?" The Watcher accused.

"What the blood Hell does it look like I'm doing," Spike snapped.

"Seems to me you're dragging yourself east towards the rising sun, but then-"

"Bugger off. Bloody stupid Watchers thinking they know bloody everything when they've forgotten the most important Bit."

"D enlighten me Spike. In another half hour the rising sun and your flames will be all the light you'll be able to provide me."

"Have you really bloody forgotten Niblet is up there bleeding and crying her eyes out after watching her sis sacrifice herself?" Spike demanded. He was furious, the others could forget about her, they were young and stupid and barely more than children themselves. But the Watcher, he expected more.

At least the man had the decency to look surprised before he put the mask on again.

"And how are you going to get to her in that condition?"

Spike reached his arm out and started dragging his body across the cement again. He glared at the Watcher. What did he bloody want him to say? Something poncy like 'where there's a will, there's a way' or did Giles expect him to beg for help? The Hell Mouth would freeze over first.

"Right then," Giles said before turning and heading towards the ladder. He started climbing and Spike stilled. He tried to shift himself to look up but his lower body wouldn't listen and the one good arm was needed to prop himself up. The best he managed was a mostly sitting position facing the ladder. Everything bloody hurt, but the Bit would need some calm.

Seemed like for bloody ever, but Giles started to come back down with his Niblet in tow. The moment Gile's feet touched the ground Spike lost control of his mouth. He wanted to run to Bit, but he couldn't make his body work, no surprise his mouth felt the need to work over time.

"Bit, Bit, Bit, I'm here let me see. Bit, Pet, Love. Here. Alive please here."

Moments after she made it to the ground she was in his arm. She was hugging him so tightly that his broken bones shifted and dug into his muscles, but he didn't care. She was alive and well.

"So sorry Pet. Failed, failed so much. Here now, gonna stay here. Not leaving. Shhhhh, Bit. Be alright."

He wanted to hold her tightly back, but one arm wasn't really enough. He wanted to rock her and pet her hair and comfort her the way he used to Dru. Sure he couldn't bring her the pretty things he used to bring his Dru, but the Bit had her own pleasures. He knew how to make hot coca and listen too.

Bit was sobbing uncontrollably now. He wondered how long she'd stared down with silent tears alone on that tower before someone could get to her. Seemed like forever to him, and he figured it was probably the same for Dawn.

"She's gone Spike, she's gone. I saw her go. Saw her jump. Why? WHY?!" Bit gulped for air and she was screaming and sobbing and for a moment Spike was worried she'd do something stupid like let go of him, but she held tight and Spike relaxed some.

The others didn't though. Whatever trance they'd been under all huddled around Buffy's corpse broke at Dawn's sobs and shrieks.

"Dawny," Red began as Tara and she made there way towards Spike and Dawn. Giles had actually backed away to give the two some space and he shifted and coughed as the two witches headed their way.

Spike growled. Before he even knew what he was doing he was using his one good arm to press Bit to him. Glinda stopped in her tracks in surprise. Red just frowned and continued walking towards them.

"Out of my way," she told Spike.

"You'll have to stake me first. Bloody well not letting her go." Spike snapped and he growled again.

"She needs comfort. She needs contact. She needs us Spike not some undead wanna be bad ass who couldn't even manage to bring her down in one piece from a tower," Willow shot back.

Spike growled louder this time. "You're one to bloody well talk with all those useful spells and witchy things how bleeding helpful were you when it counted? At least I wasn't too busy mooning over a cooling corpse to bloody well know the Bit was here and needed me. At least my commitment to her doesn't come second to my commitment to a DEAD SLAYER!"

"ENOUGH!" Giles yelled. Willow shot him an angry glare but he leveled his own at her and she backed down. Spike snarled once but was for once he stated quiet. He seemed to have shut them out and focused back in on Dawn the moment any threat was gone. It was just as well, while her tears were lessening Dawn still had her head buried in Spike's jacket and she was clinging on to him for dear life. Giles frowned, he'd have to do something about that later.

Instead Giles looked back to Willow. "Much as I regret to, I have to agree with Spike. We're being overly indulgent in our own grief. There's a lot to do."

Giles looked over at Xander. He was half way between Buffy and Dawn. It seemed that while dragging Anya towards the girl he'd realize how hurt she was. Now he was holding her with care while running one hand through her hair.

"We need to get Anya to a hospital immediately. Can one of you go with Xander to make sure he and Anya will be alright?" Giles asked.

Tara nodded, "I'll go."

"Good, start helping them get to Xander's car then. We'll meet you back at Buff-The Summer's Residence."

Tara nodded. She kissed Willow before heading toward Xander. After touching his shoulder she began talking to him in soothing tones. He was in shock and lost, but he seemed to understand. He nodded and the two started back towards his car. Both made a point of not looking at Buffy.

When Giles was satisfied that the two were making progress he turned back to Willow, Spike and Dawn.

"We need to get out of here." Spike nodded once but Willow looked ready to protest.

"The sun will be up soon and much as I hate to say it, I don't want Spike to dust on us. Willow, I need your help getting him to his car."

Spike growled and Willow looked angry.

"Listen to me. Willow after we load Spike in the car with Dawn I want you to drive them to the Summer's residence and get them inside. I'll be along shortly, I just have a few details here to deal with first."

Willow still didn't look happy, but she wasn't arguing any more, so he stepped towards Spike. Spike didn't look like he would be much help for a moment and then he gave in. With great care, Spike started to try to pull at Dawn out of their embrace. Dawn resisted but was coaxed into a position where she and Spike were facing one another.

"Bit, we've got to get up and move."

She nodded and seemed to come back to some semblance of self.

"I'm not leaving you. Never going to leave you again, but I'm going to need help to get to the car. Can't do it and hold you too."

Dawn nodded again. She got up slowly from him and took a few steps back. Giles stepped in before she could change her mind and Willow followed his example. He grabbed Spike's good arm and started to pull when Willow just said "Levitate".

Giles looked at her and she shrugged. "He's really too damaged for us to carry well."

Giles nodded. "Right then off to the car you go."

He watched the three walk off before he faced her. He just would take a moment before calling the funeral home. He just wanted a few quiet minutes with her is all. And in those moments he could show weakness. Just a minute, maybe two. He had calls to make and a broken team to talk to at the Summer's home.

****************************************************************************************************************************************

Willow was relieved to see that familiar surroundings seemed to help bring Dawn back to herself.

"Sit Spike in a chair in the kitchen while I go see what medical supplies we have," Dawn called. She was already half way down the hall. She'd be a minute pulling out bandages and braces for the vampire that Willow was magically settling down.

Unlike Dawn, Spike seemed to be getting worse. He hadn't said a word the whole ride. Not a warning to be kind to the DeSoto. Not a complaint about how Willow fiddled with and changed all his mirrors and seat settings. Not even a nasty word when Willow had 'accidentally' bumped Spike's head into the car door getting him out. Spike was never quiet. Then again he was never nice or comforting or thoughtful and he'd been all of that for Dawn back at the tower.

Dawn came in with the braces and bandages.

"Shirt off and let's get a look at that arm," Dawn demanded. With help Spike got his leather jacket off and peeled of his shirt. There was blood everywhere and Dawn gasped. A million little scratches along with one dark gash across his back became clear. Willow filled a pan with water and came to help Dawn clean off the grime and treat the wounds.

He never said anything the whole time they cleaned and patched, but every now and then he would twitch. Other than that, it was impossible to tell whether all the cuts, bruises and broken bones bothered him.

"We'll have to get you a wheelchair," Willow whispered.

Spike flinched, "I know," he said while not looking at her. He wasn't looking at anything really.

Dawn stepped into his face with a mug full of blood, "Hopefully this will help get you started."

Spike took the mug and drank. No protest,. No complaint about nasty tastes or the boring texture. He didn't even bother to stir the blood to one constant temperature.

Willow was beginning to get the wiggings. In the face of sorrow and loss, Spike was loud and maudlin. She'd been there when Dru had left him, she was there when he found out he couldn't bite, and she'd been there again when he had to swallow his pride and go to the Scoobies for sanctuary. He was violent and wild. He was angry and passionate and full of energy to do something: anything really. He pced, he swore, he drank, and when he could he killed. Now he stared with empty eyes.

Maybe they hadn't just lost Buffy after all. It surprised Willow how much that idea worried her. After all, Spike was an enemy, who cared?

"Willow?"

She turned toward Dawn and looked at her. Had Dawn been speaking to her?

"Can you move Spike to the couch and help me with the curtains? He needs to lay down. Sitting couldn't be good for him just yet."

Willow nodded and Spike levitated again. He still was silent. His eyes were on Dawn and nothing else now. That was a problem too, because Spike couldn't take care of Dawn. She was just a kid and he was an evil vampire. There were worse combinations, but the list was short. He couldn't expect time with her and he shouldn't give her that kind of focus.

****************************************************************************************************************************************

Since the car, Spike had been fading. Usually he'd fight the woozy feeling coming over him. After all, vampires don't need their body to go into shock to protect them. He was not fatally injured or even irreparably damaged.

This time though, Spike wanted the out. The escape from Buffy's death and his guilt would be wonderful. The only thing that could make the floating disconnect between the real and this peaceful empty space better would be a bottle of whiskey.

He'd relaxed more when they got to the Summer's home. It smelled like her still, though it would fade in time, it was comforting and painful now. The Little Bit had perked up some, and that helped him step back too. She wasn't doing great, but she'd be alright. Spike couldn't really ask for more.

Getting patched up hurt, but the hurt was the good kind. He allowed the burn to carry him and tuned out to who was patching up what or who gave him what to drink. There was no need to focus after all. Focusing was bad.

And then he was floating and Dawn wasn't coming with him. He almost panicked before he understood what was going on. They were moving him. Dawn was following behind too. All was well. He could let go again.

He was on the couch and Bit was there, closing curtains with Red. She brought over covers and said something about resting. Spike nodded at her. When she got up to leave though something clenched and his good arm rushed out to her.

She looked startled and it was then that Spike realized he was using vampiric speed and strength. He relaxed some. He tried to focus on what he wanted because Bit was looking at him all nerves and Red looked ready to give him some bad mojo.

"Promise," he said.

"Promise?"

"You'll stay here you'll stay safe till I wake up. Promise to be here," Spike clarified. He wasn't really sure if this was what he wanted, but it came close. Close as he could manage with his thoughts every which way and fog heavy over his brain waves.

Dawn gave a small smile, "No running off now Spike. I'll be here when you get up. Now you promise you'll be here."

Spike gave a sad smile. He really was tired, and he needed rest to heal. "Already did Bit, Already did."


	4. The Meeting After

Two days later Giles called a formal meeting. Anya was finally released from the hospital and it was time to get down to business.

"Now," Giles began, "I'm sure you're all wondering what kind of –arrangements-- we need to make in regard to recent events and the future." Giles still didn't want to talk about Buffy's death and judging from the relieved looks the others were giving him, no one else was up for saying it that bluntly.

"I still think the Bit should be here," Spike began for the millionth time. Giles sighed, he had thought that maybe Spike's new care and concern toward Dawn could be used to the group's advantage. Dawn clung to him as much as he to her. He was gentle and protective when she was around, which helped give everyone a break from dealing with a crushed frustrated teen that Giles wasn't sure how to confront. Plus, Spike's focus on Dawn kept him from getting on everyone else's nerves and it also prevented him from getting completely pissed every hour of every day. It couldn't continue, but the immediate relief had been helpful.

"Can it Dead Boy, Dawnie's just a kid she shouldn't have to deal with-" Xander began.

"She's older than you were when Buffy walked into town and blew your concept of the known world so bugger your sensibilities."

Xander's fist clenched and Giles could feel his head beginning to pound.

"Spike has a point," Giles cut. Everyone turned to him again and he looked down to clean his glasses.

"It's part of what I plan to cover in our meeting. Naturally since this is as much about funeral arrangements and finances as it is the future protection of Sunnydale, I thought we could spare her that conversation."

Spike was silent. He stared at Giles a few extra moments and then he just nodded. Giles was startled.

"If there are no further comments I'll just continue to outline my arrangements?"

Silence greeted Giles and he smiled. There was no mirth, but he could at least be relieved no one would object more.

"Right then, so I've arranged there to be a quiet private service for Buffy next week. The key to this is quiet. I want everyone to think the Slayer is still here and patrolling for an indefinite amount of time."

"Giles that's impossible!" Willow cut in.

Xander nodded. "We can patrol all we want, and we still won't be as good as Buf was."

"Not to mention that when all of us are out getting our asses kicked by magically and physically superior demons everyone will question where the scantily clad slayer who comes to bail her loud friends out of tough jams is," Anya added.

Giles sighed, "Well yes, I managed to retrieve the pieces of the Buffy bot and I thought that perhaps Willow could fix it for us?"

Willow's eyes went wide. "Do you have any idea what you're asking me to do Giles?"

"Course he bloody well does. The Git is asking you to use your computer mojo on the bot till she can pass for the real deal. Not that I think any robot can bloody well do the job. Slayers aren't replaceable in a fight and Buffy isn't replaceable at bloody all." Spike folded his arms across his chest.

"You know, I hate to say it, but Pastey over here is right. Nothing we do will replace her. Eventually they are going to find out. The Bot is good but only in short bursts." Xander added. Anya squeezed his hand and nodded.

"I'm not saying we can replace her, but there are problems we need to deal with. The Hellmouth is a constant threat. Our only living slayer is in jail. And Dawn is technically without guardian at the moment. The Buffy Bot, along with our vigilance, might make the appearance of-"

"Oh for the love of—Watcher, mind if I add on to this a bit?" Spike tossed out. He looked, well Giles wasn't really sure. Conflicted was probably the best way to describe it.

"I don't know what kind of games your trying to play here, but this is stupid. Even if you can make that piece of metal appear to be the slayer and fight like the slayer, we still have seers and telepaths and other mojo that will lead to the tin foil conclusion,"

"I don't see you saying anything helpful here Spike," Willow shot out, "you've been doing a lot of accusing and attacking recently and if you can't give us something to work with, I think you need to learn to keep that mouth of yours shut." Giles turned towards Willow in surprise. It was true that she had taken over running the Summers house in Buffy's absence and it was also true that tensions between she and Spike regarding Dawn were very high, but he hadn't realized she'd come to the point of snapping every time he opened his mouth.

"I was getting to that bit Red. It's called building, often used before suggesting unpopular ideas. Learn a bloody tactic once in a while," Spike shot back the resentment was clear, but just below the surface Giles could see exhaustion.

"You were suggesting Spike," Giles cut in.

"Why don't we get that other bint out of jail and have her patrol with the bot? Make it more convincing and that rot. Way I hear it she's put the white hat back on so we might as bloody well use her."

"Just when I thought you couldn't be any more brain dead, you've just got to say something as stupid as that." Xander said, "Everyone knows Faith stopped by and tried to kill us all. Since then we aren't on such good terms."

Spike shrugged, "I tried to kill you all too. On many occasions, with more success and less pawn like qualities if you do recall. Blood Hell, Anya has tried to kill you and you're bloody well joined at the hp these days. What's the deal with this one chit, did she ruin your delicate sensitives that special night?" Spike mocked.

"Faith was never the poster girl for sane or responsible. We can't trust her and without Buffy there is no one to stop her when she loses it again," Willow cut in.

"That's it innit though, Buffy isn't here. What do you think will happen to her when the Watcher's Council finds out? Take it from someone who actually knows how the bloody thing works, they will find out, might even know right now. There they'll be with no living slayer. Back up's dead and the live one's too damaged for field work. Think they'll let her rot there while the world waits for her to die of natural causes for the next savior? Not bloody likely."

Giles sighed and steady unpleasant pulse of pain resumed residence in his brain. Willow and Xander were pale while Tara shifted and looked nervous.

"Why Spike, I never knew you cared about anyone other than yourself and your ex-vampire whore. It's been very enlightening to watch you argue over the best course of action we should take now that Buffy is dead." Anya quipped. Everyone glared.

"What? I'm just saying that I didn't think Spike had the basic information, forethought, or sympathies that would lead him to these kinds of insights," she offered.

Spike pouted in his wheelchair. He'd be in it for a few weeks at least, maybe more. At least his arm was healing nicely though.

Giles sighed, "I don't think the Council knows anything yet, but Spike's right, eventually they will know and unfortunately he's probably also correct in assuming that Faith's days are numbered. I can't say I'm comfortable with bringing Faith here, but our options are-"

"Of course we'll do what we can," Willow interrupted. Her eyes seemed to glow and she nodded to herself. "I'll call Angel and make the arrangements for Faith to come here. I'll also pass on the news about Buffy, he might want to come to her funeral. Meanwhile, we need a game plan about finances and the living situation."

"Wills I might have missed something, but why can't we keep on living as we are? Anya and I have Mrs. Summer's room, you have the guest room, Dawn keeps her room and Faith could stay on the couch or in the basement"

"Yes but money still plays into this," Anya chimed in, "we don't have nearly enough funds to feed, clothe, or run a household this size."

Giles coughed, "I have enough funds to help get us through the next few months, but we are going to have to figure out some creative funding or greatly improve sales at the Magic Box."

Spike nodded, "Give me the papers, I can figure something out with the expenses."

Jaws dropped and blank shocked faces turned towards Spike. Spike shifted and glared back.

"S'not like I haven't had to work a budget ever before."

"Forgive me if I'm not eager to give an thief all of our checks to work our money woes out with. Who knows what evil things you'll buy with the money?" Xander blurted.

"I'm not saying to not check up on it Whelp, I'm just saying to let me look at it and see what I can do. I do know a thing or two about it after all."

"I could use some help," Anya interjected, "I'm still very hurt."

"Right then," Giles began, "Willow fix up the Buffy bot and talk to Angel about Faith. I'll finish up funeral arrangements, and Spike and Anya will work on the finances. Now if you'll just decide who will patrol when, who's going to do what chores, and who will stay home to watch Spike and Anya till they're better, I'll be on my way."

Everyone groaned.


	5. The Funeral

The funeral was the most trying moment in Spike's long unlife. He was still confined to a wheelchair and feeling every ounce of his hopelessness. He wanted to be pissed right now so much he could almost feel the burn of the vodka down his throat, but he couldn't do that. Bit was clinging to him like some sort of life line and he was certain that a vampire pissed out of his mind would be neither helpful nor a good influence for the Bit. She helped to push him into the church in a half daze. Spike supposed it was shock, but he couldn't be certain.

"Dawny, let Tara or I help with Spike," Red suggested with a bright but false smile.

Spike could feel Dawn's body tense. He imagined her knuckles going white as her heart sped up with dull hammering thumps.

"No," Bit responded with that cold voice she'd taken to using every time anyone tried to separate her from him.

Spike wanted to smile and puff out his chest at the sound of it. His Bit wanted him and she wasn't leaving his side, not by choice anyhow. Without her need, the ache of Buffy would have been unbearable. This pain that Spike was always careful to keep pushed into the back of his skull would have taken over. He might have thought to sit through the evening ceremony they were having and lay by her coffin at dawn waiting for the sun to dust him at Buffy's grave side. More likely though, he just would have laid down under the tower and waited for the sun to rise on him then and there. Dawn's presence gave him something to move for and he hated how everyone tried to interfere. He hadn't ever done anything to Dawn and he never would.

"Sweety," Glinda began as Red's face crumpled in anger and hurt, "we just think that Spike's got to be awfully heavy to push around like that. We wouldn't want you bumping into anything in the church, especially because so many things could hurt him in there if he got too close."

"I trust the Niblet's driving," Spike interjected. He could feel his girl's insecurities rise to the forefront now and he would have none of that. "Besides, I do a lot of the actual rolling, both arms work now and all that."

Glinda gave Spike a disapproving eye while Red's eyes sparked with an unspoken threat. Spike wanted to flip her the bird more than he had in a while, but he stifled it. This was a funeral, and not any funeral, it was Hers, he wouldn't ruin it or create a row in it for anything.

The Whelp, while often an idiot wasn't oblivious. He had gone on ahead to help Anya on her crutches into the church, but he was ambling back now. Worry was stamped across his face as he saw the millonth little stand off between Spike and the others. While the boy had originally sided with Red and the White Witch, as fights broke out about littler and littler things and Spike spent more time refusing to rise to the bait often thrown this way, he began to take more neutral angles on the wars. Spike wasn't sure if the Boy's sense of fair play had gotten to him, or if Anya, who was really impressed with Spike's—well William's---financing experience had gotten him to soften, but there were occasions where it is appreciated.

"What is it now?" he asked in a tired tone. Spike's nose wrinkled, he could smell alcohol all over the Whelp. Jealousy and disgust mingled in his mind over that little tidbit.

Both of the witches looked guilty and Spike felt more than saw Dawn straighten. Spike sighed, he was going to ease this too, though the told himself, it was only for the Bit's sake.

"Nothing, we were just taking a minute to rally is all. It's not an easy thing to face you know," Spike made sure to throw the Whelp his most piercing stare. He wanted the Boy to know, he knew about his liberties and he didn't approve. Not good for the Bit or the Ex-demon in his care and the boy needed more sense and care to them than this.

Red seemed to shrink as she turned to the Whe-Boy again, "Yeah, we just wanted to make sure everyone was ready."

Xander looked at Spike for a moment, unsure, but then he turned to Willow and pulled her into an impulsive hug. "God Wills, I never thought this day would come. I don't think any of us could be ready."

Spike held back a snort, seemed booze made the boy a little loopy.

"We should get inside," Bit said suddenly. Spike couldn't tell what was in her voice. Hurt, regret, fear, exhaustion, or something else, he'd probably never know. "I just want to get through this."

***********************************************************************************************************************************

Dawn supposed that this funeral was how most went. The preacher got up and started talking about Heaven and God's will. Buffy was apparently called home to a better place or whatever. She wasn't quite able to pay attention as she sat on the end of the front pew with Spike off to the side. He would squeeze her hand now and again when she tensed up, but his eyes weren't focused on her. They were staring at the dark wooden coffin on the alter surrounded by flowers. His eyes held tears, but none of them escaped.

Dawn wondered if all that restrain was for her. Spike had never been so calm in—well in any situation. She knew the stories of his old attacks and grudges and she'd seen how he acted over Buffy and her back before the tower. Even at the tower as he fell, he'd made that horrible wailing sound. She was sure it hadn't been something he could control, just like those tears that night when she'd made it down the tower were probably beyond his control. She'd seen them though and she'd connected with that more than the comfort. His presence was good, but Dawn missed his explosions in some ways. They always calmed her and let her know that she wasn't the only one feeling that way.

Spike gulped and shuddered as if he was fighting something and Dawn couldn't take it anymore. She leaned into his ear and whispered "It's okay to you know, be emotional sometimes. It's part of you and it weirds me out when you're all still and stuff."

Spike reeled back and stared at here. A small smile crossed his face as tears started streaming. He squeezed her hand again while the other came up to cover his mouth with what sounded like a moan of pain or maybe it was a muffled scream. Spike started shaking in what Dawn decided must be uncontrollable spasms. He looked at nothing but the coffin and it's dark wood for long moments In his eyes Dawn saw a longing like nothing she'd seen in anyone's face before.

And then everything finally hit home for Dawn. Buffy was dead. She was never going to see her again. She would never save Dawn's life again or harass and embarrass her in front of her friends. She'd never scare off a would be boyfriend again or weird out another parent who already thought the Summers girls were bad news. Her solemn face crumpled into a mass of pain as she dove into Spike's leather jacket. Because she wasn't brave enough to stare at the coffin with unblinking eyes the way he did. Dawn was too unused to facing death to look at it with the pain and understanding Spike seemed to have. His arms wrapped around her as they sobbed.

Dawn wasn't certain, but she felt confident that Xander or Willow or maybe everyone had turned to stare at her outburst. She could almost feel the eyes on her as tension filled Spike's joints with what she took to be a warning of someone's approach. They were Buffy's friends, but they weren't family. They didn't love her like Dawn did and they didn't love her the way Dawn was sure Spike had. They had no right to this moment. She whipped around to tell them to "bugger off" as Spike might have, except it wasn't Willow or Xander or even Giles who'd avoided her since Buffy's sacrifice.

Anger welled up in Dawn in a way she didn't know was possible. She released a growl that Spike should have been proud of. She glared at the tall looming figure. Farther behind him was a dark haired girl who looked nervous and out of place. He had no right to be here. He had left his sister, abandoned her when he was most needed how dare he approach her and reach out his hand as if to comfort. She would never be so desperate to accept comfort from him.

"So you decided to come," Spike began from behind her. He voice was wet and hurt, but he was making a desperate attempt for control, "I think she would have wanted that."

Dawn turned to yell at Spike. How could he welcome Angel? He hated Angel and Angel had been his rival, a shadow he could never breech. But then she saw his face. It wasn't looking at Angel, but back at Buffy's coffin. He stroked her hair and turned to face the girl behind Angel.

"Faith," he acknowledged, "glad to see you would come to help, sorry Peaches can't quite make appropriate entrances though," Spike added half joking. He had some of his old look just then, but the remnants of tears ruined the effect.

"How dare you show up here," Angel demanded. Dawn snapped to face Angel who loomed directly above them. It occurred to Dawn now that everyone was watching, including the preacher. Everyone seemed to be in too much shock to act, and Dawn had a tight feeling in her stomach that something terrible was about to happen.

"How dare you taint her sister with you hands while offering a crocodile's comfort. You didn't deserve a minute of the time she spent near you and now you sit here crying as if you never tried to kill her as if she meant something to you as if-"

Red filled Dawn's vision and she stood up and slapped Angel. His head jerked back and he looked at her with surprise.

"How fucking dare you!" Dawn shouted back, "Spike has as much right if not more right to be here than you. Actions speak louder than words, and Spike's tell me he cares more about Buffy than you ever could. HE didn't show up late to her funeral and then create a disturbance that actually halted the proceedings. HE didn't come up and demand you prove your right to mourn, even though YOU abandoned her. YOU'VE tried to kill her too, at least Spike NEVER BETRAYED HER TRUST IN THE WORST WAY POSSIBLE. He's always been honest about his intentions and he does what he says he will, unlike some people who feel their EGOS are more important than anyone's grief or sense of loss."

"Bit," Spike began as he pulled at her hand.

"No, Spike, I don't care. I've fucking had it with people being suspicious of you and disregarding everything you've said and done because of a past no one can change. I'm tired of the attacks and the fights. It ends now. Either you accept that Spike is part of our lives and is here as much because he deserves to be here as because he's my friend and I want him here or you can leave. That's the end of this."

Angel stared, Spike squeezed her hand again, and the church was silent. After a moment, Angel broke eye contact and that guilty brooding look Dawn was so used to seeing appeared. Good, he deserved it.

Angel sat down a few rows back and the church service began again. The priest, to his credit went on almost entirely unruffled.

"Thanks," Spike whispered to her.

"He's a bastard and he deserved it," Dawn whispered back.

Spike tried to muffle a laugh and that made Dawn smile a bright wide grin that was out of place with their surroundings.

"You know," she whispered, "I really think we might be alright."

Spike's smile went wistful and sad, but he still held it. "We have to be alright, Bit. It's how she'd of wanted it."

Tears started again, but Dawn nodded. "We're going to try at least, she deserves that much."


	6. What Dreams May Come

Dawn woke up screaming and crying from what felt like her millionth nightmare. Strong arms were wrapped around her and comforting her. Her first sleep addled thought was 'Buffy', but the hands around her were too big and the hold was a little too rough. Buffy had always held her like a china doll.

'If not Buffy then who-Spike.' That's right it had to be Spike, because Buffy was dead. Buffy had been dead for a few weeks now. The leather surrounding her made much more sense now as did the cigarette scent that lingered.

"Shhh, Bit, it's s'alright. You're safe now. Always gonna be safe from now on, won't let anything hurt you ever again. Never ever," Spike mumbled while he held her. She'd calmed some but her heart hadn't stopped pounding and while the scent of her fear was receding, her sorrow wasn't. Bit was always a little sad now a days though.

And then suddenly Dawn was hugging back and sobbing. He knew she'd finally puzzled it all out now. His grip relaxed a little, because now he was sure it was just nightmares.

Lights were turning on and feet were pounding down the hall towards her room, but Spike didn't pay much attention. Red and company might be slower to respond, but at least they were constant. No one was willing to just assume that it was only a nightmare.

Xander, who's room was closest charged in with an ax raised ready to strike. Willow was a close second holding on to an energy ball in one hand and her lover in the other. Couldn't see Faith, but Spike could hear her shifting from one foot to the other out in the hall way. Clever girl probably already knew what the trouble was and knew better than to intrude. As it was, the room was too cramped for all these weapons and fear and people to co-exist.

Dawn for her part, looked up briefly before burying her head deeper into Spike's jacket. She wasn't sure whether to be touched at their concern or embarrassed for waking them up twice in the same week.

"Well fancy this, the Witches and co. to the rescue. I'm touched by the response Harris, but maybe next bloody time you'll consider throwing something on besides your bleeding boxers. Unless of course your plan was to blind the bugger hurting Bit and then hack this image out of all our heads with that little toy." Spike said as he turned, still holding tight to Dawn.

Dawn peeped up to look at the scene once more, and then she darted back into Spike's chest so no one could see her giggle. Xander's mouth opened and closed while Willow smirked and Tara bit her lower lip.

"Some of us just respond you know, we don't have to be dressed for an 80's concert." Xander retorted through his blush.

"Flattery won't take me back in time so I can rip my eyes out thirty seconds before your bloody beer belly made an unwelcome appearance on an otherwise lovely night."

"Yeah well I'm not entirely convinced that there is a place in time where mutilating your hair beyond recognition and owning, let alone wearing that much black was in style, Blood Breathe."

"Whelp-"

"GUYS!!" Willow interrupts as she pushes between the two. "If Dawn is alright, which it seems she is, then I think we should all be getting back to bed or where ever it is we lurk and go back to sleep or do whatever evil things it is we do when others sleep."

Both Xander and Spike smiled. They nodded to one another. Neither meant the jabs, but they found that continuing to argue helped keep everyone at ease. Willow went to peacemaker mode instead of on the attack herself which made Tara proud and pleased. Dawn was started into giggles, and Anya wouldn't be upset about being bed ridden and missing the whole scene.

Dawn was safe so tired weapon wielding adults started filing out of the room and back to bed. Spike stayed crouched holding Dawn as the others left.

"Bit," Spike began.

"Don't leave," Dawn begged.

"Be just outside the door."

"No stay here with me."

"Been there done than and Red almost fried me, remember?" Spike offered. It was true too. The first few days Spike had slept on the floor of Dawn's room at night and one morning when Willow walked in she started yelling and throwing curses at Spike. It became clear that under no conditions was Spike allowed to be in Dawn's room while she slept-something about how improper it was.

"But I don't want to be alone."

Spike hesitated and Dawn knew she had him. Of course even before Buffy's death Spike denied her very little, now a days it seemed like he would never deny anything from her again.

"Right, come on then."

Dawn thought about arguing, but she didn't have the strength. As long as she wasn't alone, she didn't care where Spike was taking her. She wrapped herself in her blanket and took Mr. Gordo, the stuffed pig that Buffy never let her play with, up with her as she made to follow Spike.

It was a straight shot to the door and even without night vision Dawn was able to quietly make it out the door. She paused when Spike just stepped to the side of the door and sat down next to the frame with his legs sprawled out in front of him. She wrinkled her brow in confusion.

"Floor might not be the comfiest place to sleep but Red can't get too angry. Makes my lack of intentions pretty clear and also says loudly that the situation isn't one you fancy making common."

Dawn wishes that sleeping with Spike could be a common occurrence. Not in that dirty way that the others made it out to be though. True Dawn once had a crush on this blond vamp, but that seemed like a very long time ago now. If she didn't know in Buffy's life, she knew through her death that Spike had eyes only for Buffy. Spike's presence no longer even threatened to inspire little thrills in her, it was just the base comfort of him. The knowledge that he could and would protect her made living post-Buffy a lot less panic inducing.

She knows of course that the other Scoobies will never understand this. That Spike is allowed so much time with her at all is something that he fought tooth and nail for and Dawn knows it.

So without further hesitation Dawn stretched and yawned. Then she carefully laid down in front of her doorway and rested her head on one of Spike's legs. He started briefly as he had been half zoning out a moment before.

"You're losing your touch," Dawn whispered as she closes her eyes.

"And you're losing your bloody mind to actually be sleeping here when you have a perfectly good bed not ten feet away."

"Yeah well, it's easier to sleep through some soreness than it is through a nightmare in this house." Dawn yawned and Spike pet her hair. He remained silent and Dawn allowed sleep to reclaim her.


	7. Evening on Patrol

Xander peeped out in the hall. He was used to seeing Spike sitting guard by Dawn's door on his paranoid four am rounds, but the something outside Dawn's door startled him. He jumped and was ready to attack when Spike held out his hand to stop him.

Xander looked more closely. That mis-shapen lump was actually Dawn cradling Mr. Gordo. It turned his stomach to see her snuggled so against the vampire, but there wasn't much he could do about it without waking her. Instead Xander glared at Spike with the most anger he had managed since Buffy's demise and mouthed 'We'll talk about this later.'

It was even more surprising when the vampire just nodded before turning back towards Dawn. For a moment Xander was dumbfounded. Where was the defiance and insults? He wished that Buffy was here to see Spike take orders from him. Xander, the Zeppo, could so confront the baddies.

Then it hit him all over again. Buffy wasn't here. Buffy was never going to be here. For a minute, Xander worried he'd be sick, but then he started moving toward the steps. He was quiet for Dawn's sake but quick too. Suddenly he just wanted to finish his check and go back to bed. He knew his fear would nag at him until he checked the whole home for evil-- well evil beyond The Fanged Wonder--, but thinking about Buffy was enough to make him want to slip back into unfeeling unconsciousness all over again.

He knew that Buffy's passing had taken some of his sanity away because there was one protective vampire up all nights guarding the house, two powerful witches in the guest room, an energetic slayer residing in the the basement, and Xander still got up at fairly regular intervals in a panic. He had to check the home just in case all the super powers overlooked something or anything. He couldn't stand it if something more happened to his little group.

Anya wasn't entirely mobile yet since she'd been badly hurt in the last battle with Glory. He really should stay with her in case she needed something. He always convinced himself he wouldn't be gone long. Anya was always asleep when he left and whether he'd really only been five minute or he'd spent a half and hour dazedly walking around the Summer's abode half checking the perimeter half strolling in memory lane Anya was almost always awake when he came back. At first she'd just give him a sad and pain filled look. As she got better the pain had left and a week ago when it became clear that like Dawn's nightmares, Xander's midnight wandering were more permanent the sorrow transformed into something else that was more unreadable. Often now Xander would spend almost as much time pondering her look as he did Buffy when he ghosted the house.

What did that look mean, Xander wondered as he sat down on the Summer's couch. A couch where he'd spent many high school visits accepting hot cocoa from Mrs. Summers while trying to cover his awkward nervous erection cause from being so close to Buffy. How he'd worshiped her then.

And now he worshiped another girl. A beautiful woman who waited upstairs helpless while he ambled. He'd never been much help to either of them. Maybe that's what Anya's look is about. She knows that his self appointed watches are an extension of his helplessness. He can't protect the girl he used to love and she was a super hero in her own right, how is he going to protect the fragile woman upstairs?

Xander sighed because he felt so old, useless, and tired now. He couldn't remember a time since Buffy had entered his life that he felt this lost. He knew he should get upstairs and sleep soon. The shorter the period he was gone, the more likely it was that Anya wouldn't wake up and Xander would give anything not to have to stare at that look of hers. She always woke easier on nights when Dawn had nightmares too.

He slowly got up off the couch and stretched. Xander trudged up the stairs and barely saw Spike and Dawn this time round. It was wrong that Dawn relied on Spike so much but then there were so many things wrong. He hoped in the morning he'd have more strength because right now Xander was certain he wasn't up for telling Spike where to get off regarding the presumptions he took with Dawn.

Thank God Anya hadn't woken up yet.


	8. Needing Faith

Faith heard the footsteps on the stairs and around the ground floor. When she'd first started living in a slightly refurbished basement at the Summers' home, these steps caused panic. Soundless on the stairs, she'd investigate. Now, she knows it's just Xan wandering around with an ax. Sometimes Spike ghosts the house, but doesn't clod around the way Xander does. Besides, Spike isn't brainless enough to carry around an ax. The weapon really is too big to maneuver well with in the house.

She held her breath when Xander enters the kitchen. Some nights, particularly those after Dawn's nightmares, he drinks and drinks. One beer or twenty, it doesn't really matter, Faith knows an addict when she sees one.

Tonight though, he's just patrolling or whatever it is he does. His feet keep on moving without a pause by the fridge. Faith let out a breathe she didn't know she was holding in. Sometimes when Xander is really gone and drunk, he'll come down and talk to Faith. It's about Buffy, about Anya, about Willow, about Spike but never about Dawn.

She hates that. It's one more addict who thinks he can have his way. Thinks he's the noble victim and she's his ticket salvation-ville. He never does more than talk and he always stays sitting on the stairs so Faith tolerates these—whatever they are even thought they wig her out.

These midnight conversations entering into creep con level five but the worst part is that Xander never remembers these chats come morning. He doesn't talk to her in the daylight, no matter how drunk. He stays glued to Anya's side or over supporting Willow in her latest household spat with Spike. He picks up Dawn from school and shoots Spike dirty looks when he greets Dawn. He patrols with Faith in perfect silence. Sometimes he's swaying and drinking from a flask, sometimes he has flat dead eyes and a steady step through the graveyards but he never has a word on his lips or even a nod in her direction.

During these evening meetings, Xander often cries. Not loud blubbering sobs just leaky eyes and sharp breathes. Faith is out of her league. She can't tell if these are tears of addiction meant to lure her close enough for Xander to hurt, never mind that she's a slayer now and can't be hurt by those kinds of people anymore, or if those tears are cast in real sorrow. The concept of genuine comfort given freely is alien to Faith's life. Angel was the first to offer it to her, and even then he was their demanding punishment and responsibility with that comfort, and that was something Faith got.

Faith doesn't get how Xander, as an addict, has a place in this perfect little happy life Buffy created. Of course Buffy's dead now and a robot is in her room and patrolling her town. Her little sis relies on a vampire chipped into service of humans and her friends are taking on responsibilities both their age and their personalities aren't designed to handle. Hell compared to them, Faith looked well adjusted.

As Xander retreats up the stairs and back to his room Faith sighs in relief. Tonight is not a night of drunk talks and tears. When Faith is sure it's safe she leaves the basement and walks up to the hallway. Spike's there as usual. She's not startled to see Dawn sprawled out next to him. Spike motions for her to join him and she does. The two of them hold these conferences sometimes. She thinks of them as Team Outsiders—though Spike insists she not get too comfortable here. He's still so sure the others will eventually include her.

"How is she?" Faith whispers.

Spike shrugs, "As well as any of em are love. Bit's young though, she'll pull through this."

"And you?" Faith asks.

Spike looks at her. She can see the surprise and the suspicion in him before the gaze goes steely. "Best not to ask after me pet."

"But--"

"No. Gonna explain this one last time. You and I we can't become friends or alliances here. Know it seems natural to build something. The other Scoobies—well they don't much like or trust us do they? We've done bad things to them and the world, but here we all are trying to hold the hellmouth closed and they need us most to do it don't they?" Spike says.

"Doesn't mean they'll ever like us. Doesn't mean we'll ever belong. I can be sorry, I can be responsible, I can help, but it won't make me one of them." Faith mutters.

"There's where you're wrong. You're human. You have a soul and a conscience and all those shiny white hat requirements. They'll have to let you in sometime, but cozying yourself up to the resident Big Bad is not going to score points, especially not with the witch." Spike states.

"I can never be her." Faith whispers.

"No one can and no one wants you to be."Spike retorts.

There's silence and Faith thinks some more about exactly what Spike has said. She wonder's if Xander's drunk diatribes are the beginnings of an alliance. Will she be leading the intervention charge in the months to come?

And then she glances at Spike and becomes suspicious. What's his motive? Her whole life people have used and manipulated her. Whether she was stealing and fencing tvs with her old crowd or fighting evil for watchers, Faith is usually a tool to be used when needed. She's known this and accepted it.

Evil people like the mayor have always been the kindest to her, but even then they aren't free rides, she's always had some end to hold up.

"And why exactly do you want me to be in with the Scoobies anyhow?" she hisses.

Spike smiles, it's humorless, "Do you know why I'm not in worse shape that Harris most days? Bloody hell, do you know why I'm not a pile of dust next to Her headstone right now?"

Faith looks at Dawn and Spike nods.

"I'd take her away but she still needs them and she needs me. Not a pleasant balancing act really."

"You want me to gain their friendships so that I can run interference for you?" Faith asks.

"I want you to stand up and do whatever is best for Dawn when I can't."

Faith stares at the wall because she knows Spike's gaze would be overwhelming. She knows she'll play her part here not because it's right, though it might be. She'll do it because Spike has been kind and he trusts her inherent human nature and her moral compass with what is most important to him. When someone hands you that, even when you're the last or only option, you've got to try to honor it.


End file.
